The Power of the Queen
by the Black Rose
Summary: Marianne POV. Ignores R2. I smiled. What could a mother truly deny her son when he went through so much trouble? 'I would like your permission to take Euphemia li Britannia as my bride.' LuluEuphie SuzaEuphie
1. Prologue

**The Power of the Queen  
**by the Black Rose

**AN**: This arc includes 3 side stories, an epilogue, and a light-hearted sequel. This is the main story, entitled "The Power of the Queen", and it is a complete story in and of itself that will be posted to FFN. Side story and sequel may not be posted here due to rating (they include lemons). I have a rough draft completed of the entire arc, minus the sequel which is still in progress (romantic comedy). Will update as quickly as I can in between updating other fics for Gundam Wing and Gundam Seed. Thank you to those that will read it. Love, Rose

PS - Please forgive the Arthurian symbolism (Mom, Geass started it!)  
PPS - I've included a little preview for chapter 1 at the bottom. :)

**Warnings:** Spoilers up through episode 23. Angst. Deals with incestuous feelings between half-siblings. Please do not read if it will make you uncomfortable.

**Pairings:** Lelouch x Euphemia. Euphemia x Suzaku. Euphemia x Lelouch.

* * *

**The Power of the Queen  
**(begins at the end of episode 23 and continues)

**Prologue**

_I cannot imagine a greater torture for a mother to endure than to watch her child suffer. From the time I first realized there was a tiny being inside me, I wanted to protect you from all the evils and the pain of that world. A mother's love… _

_But I have watched you suffer, my son, all these empty years._

_-_

I was born Marianne Lamperouge, a common woman in a little faming town nestled between the Alps and the Auvergne mountains. Growing up within the Britannian territory known as the Rhone Valley, my mother taught me the duties I would assume as a farmer or rancher's wife one day – hoeing, planting, cooking. By the time I was ten, I could ride a horse, drive a tractor, cook a meal for twenty…The list went on.

As a Britannian citizen, I also attended school and received a solid education. This led me to discover a passion for classical literature. Then, it sent me far from home and even farther from the life my parents thought I should have lived. To college.

My education ended, or perhaps it truly began, with my marriage to Charles di Britannia. I desired more than a common woman's life. And I believed someone intended for me to have more….

I was granted, around the time I turned fourteen years old, a very uncommon gift. One that eventually led me to become a queen. An empress. This gift, this power isn't mine. It doesn't belong to me or to anyone. But, it's a power you know by now, Lelouch.

I wish. Things change.

You command. People obey.

This power called Geass has a will all its own, my son. And as you've just witnessed with your own, horrified eyes on this day - this day that held so much hope, not just for Japan and its people, who I admit mean little to me. But for Nunally, for your friend, Suzaku. And most of all, for the hope _she_ still held for you…

The power of Geass has no soul. No heart.

And as I watch you - with what's left of your kindness and your gentle nature writhing in agony - I wish for the thousandth time, your mother could be of some comfort to you.

But I cannot.

I can only wait, here, in this place they call Caerleon, as I have for the last seven years. Sharing in your torment. Waiting for your judgment.

And in the end, I don't know which would hurt you more. To believe that it is your power, your sin that killed the woman you love.

Or to know that…It was mine.

* * *

Preview of Chapter 1 

_Euphemia's mother, Bethany Valliere li Britannia, was a thin wisp of a woman with pale, delicate skin. We were, of course, rivals at court when your father and I first were married. And exact opposites from one another. _

_Bethany wore her light blond hair up in an elegant style. I let my dark curls tumble freely down my back. _

_She spoke in a soft, gentle tone. I was known, scourged even, by the court for laughing out loud and raising my voice to 'inappropriate' levels. _

_I never knew what Charles saw in her. She always seemed so frail, and as you are well aware, Lelouch, your father detests anything less than the strongest and the fittest. Midway through Bethany's pregnancy (her second) she was placed on permanent bed rest. While I still went for walks and continued to keep my gardens until almost the day you were born. _

_But Bethany had some things I could never have: position; wealth; power outside your father's influence. Her sons would have held a direct line to the throne. Had she given birth to any boys. Instead, Bethany had two daughters – Cornelia, who was four years old when I had you. And Euphemia. Born several months after you._

_All these things, you already know, of course. But in the aftershocks of today's events, I feel the need to gather my thoughts and memories. I want to sort through this because I know the time of your ascension to this kingdom's throne grows near. And nearer still is having to face the judgment of the Queen._


	2. They're so different

**The Power of the Queen**

by the Black Rose

**AN**: The introduction paragraph should help spell this out, but most of the story is written as a collection of Marianne's memories. We will eventually catch up with events in the series and even move past episode 23.

**Warnings: **The worst of the 'incest' in this chapter is a five-year-old Euphie saying she loves Lelouch (please be aware the overall arc does include incestuous feelings between half-siblings).

Thanks so much to everyone who takes the time to read my fic. Love, Rose

* * *

Chapter 1 

_Euphemia's mother, Bethany Valliere li Britannia, was a wisp of a woman with pale, delicate skin. We were, of course, rivals at court when your father and I first married. And exact opposites from one another. _

_Bethany wore her light blond hair up in an elegant style. I let my dark curls tumble freely down my back. She spoke in a soft, gentle tone. I was known, scourged even, by the court for laughing out loud and raising my voice to 'inappropriate' levels. _

_I never knew what Charles saw in her. She always seemed so frail, and as you are well aware, Lelouch, your father detests less than the strongest and the fittest of anything. Midway through Bethany's pregnancy (her second) she was placed on constant bed rest. I still went for walks and continued to keep my gardens until almost the day you were born. _

_But Bethany had some things I could never have: position; wealth; power outside your father's influence. Her father was a Baron, and her sons would have held a direct line to the throne. Had she given birth to any boys. Instead, Bethany had two daughters – Cornelia, who was four years old when I had you. And Euphemia. Born several months after you._

_All these things, you already know. But in the aftershocks of today's events, I feel the need to gather my thoughts and memories. The time of your ascension to this kingdom's throne grows near. And nearer still is having to face the judgment of the Queen._

_- _

_Something you may not have known was how close your father came to throwing Bethany out of the house when she dared give him another daughter. The emperor wanted sons, not "useless" women who could barely buy the loyalty of a foreign prince or diplomat. I managed to stay in his good graces by having a boy. And so I was forgiven when I insisted that Bethany and her two daughters be allowed to stay._

_Shortly after I took up for dear Bethany (and Euphemia), I found myself - the common woman the emperor deigned to make his wife solely for her sturdy genes and strong will - graced with the friendship of Bethany Valliere li Britannia. She taught me all the proper courtly etiquette I'd been tromping over since my wedding day, and even forgave me for having the things she didn't: a son, and an iota of your father's respect._

_I suppose it's a natural inclination for a mother to wish for her son to marry the daughter of a friend and ally, but I admit it didn't occur to me, then. As much as I was happy and relieved to have Bethany's friendship in an otherwise lonely existence – save for you, my dear son – I was raised Roman Catholic. And so the idea of you and Euphemia…_

_No matter how I looked at it, I could never get over the simple truth…As much as you seemed to love her, she was your half-sister._

_- _

"They are so different, Marianne. You could hardly believe these children are related." Bethany glanced up from her needlepoint and nodded in the direction of the walk behind me. We sat on a blanket spread over the lawn, amidst my gardens, in the middle of the afternoon. After several days of rainfall, the sun had finally poked its head through the curtain of clouds. I can still smell the scent of rain and magnolias…

Unlike Bethany, I didn't live in the castle. Instead, Charles gave me a small cottage on his vast property – only separated from the larger building by an English-style garden – as a wedding present. I enjoyed sitting idly in the sun, or playing with our children. Bethany always had to be sewing her embroidery.

I turned to look, wondering if it had really taken her four years to notice, or if there was something new that my son and her daughter had at odds with one another. Motherly instinct brought my eyes directly to my son, bent over, hands resting on his knees while he gasped for air. The sun glinted in his dark brown hair. My son, the prince.

"Lelouch!" A girlish squeal rang out and he turned at the same moment I did. Euphemia ran with her arms outstretched, her light, strawberry hair streaming behind her. A wary butterfly fluttered just beyond her reach

Euphemia was a happy, affectionate girl, with blue eyes the same hue as her mother's - but the little girl made the color seem vivid and alive. Bethany's eyes always reminded me of a faded watercolor canvas.

'So different' didn't quite cover the contrast between my son and her daughter, but Bethany and I had little in common ourselves. Lelouch had my dark hair and tan skin, my violet eyes and stubborn demeanor. He had the added detriment of his father's temper and resentful humor – when he wasn't getting his way. Which was whenever he was around his older brothers Clovis and Schneizel. Euphemia had her mother's pale skin, which freckled in the sun. And she had Bethany's smile.

"Mine!" The pink-haired girl yelled and continued to give chase to the poor butterfly. Lelouch sat down in the grass (a favorite position of his mother's), and just watched the little girl run.

"She's very determined." I turned back to my friend. Her needlepoint lay forgotten in her lap. "Beth?"

She shook her head and focused her attention on me. "Yes. It must be her father's trait. I doubt she gets any of that from me."

"Well, it's inevitable that they get something from their father." I picked a blade of grass from the ruffle of my skirt. "At least she didn't get his temper. Lelouch…" I sighed. "He stomps his foot and screams at me when he doesn't like something."

"Yes." Bethany picked up the small, circular frame that held her embroidery, and stared at the canvas. "Euphemia can be willful when she chooses. Most of the time, though…" She lowered her sewing, again. Her shoulders slumped.

"What?"

"It's nothing." Bethany raised her head. She pulled her mouth into a smile. "Nothing you or I have any say in anyway. It's the way things are. And who am I to change them? I can't…"

I frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"I just…" Bethany placed her canvas on the blanket beneath us. "You know, we always want something better for our children." She pulled her knees up, beneath her long skirt, to her chest. The sun shone on her pale skin and caught in her dark-gold hair. She had a light sprinkling of freckles beneath her powder. She looked…so young. "Cornelia seems…More capable somehow. I worry for Euphemia."

"Worry for her? But what could—"

"She can be very sensitive. And you know how the other children can be."

I sighed. "Oh yes."

"She gets left out most of the time. I know, Lelouch does as well, but I believe it's different. He's a rival. They will eventually come to respect him. Euphemia is…" Bethany looked at me. Her mouth turned down at the corners and so did her eyes. "I just worry she won't have much of a place. When she grows up."

"Well, if she doesn't, then Nunally hasn't a prayer, either."

"I suppose. Although Nunally has a brother who can make sure she's not—"

"Lelouch!" Euphemia giggled. Bethany's eyes glanced in the direction of her daughter then focused on me again.

"Forgotten. Euphemia has Cornelia. And Cornelia will have her own battles to fight."

Clouds passed overhead, and turned the skies grey. "I guess it's too much to hope that these children won't have to fight." I stood up and offered Bethany my hand. It was time to round up the kids and go inside. My friend placed her palm on top of my wrist, and rose like a ballerina sweeping up from the floor.

"Once you're a part of royalty." Her other hand cupped mine. "The whole world becomes a battleground. People, even your own family, are either allies or enemies." Her fingers tightened around mine. "There is nothing in between."

"You sound like Charles." I snorted indelicately. I'm sure Bethany wanted to throw up her hands and declare me a lost cause. Instead, she smiled and released my hand.

"I'm sure he'd be offended that you said as much."

I laughed. "Probably. But for what it's worth, I'm glad we became friends." I gestured for her to lead the way inside.

"As am I." She took my arm. "As different as we are. We're not always," she smiled at me in a way that warmed her ice-blue eyes, "so different."

* * *

"Lelouch, come _on_!" The little girl stomped a white, patton-leather shoe into the wood floor of the gameroom. I watched from the doorway as Euphemia placed stubby fingers on the edge of the boys' game table and turned pleading eyes towards my son. "I want to play, and you promised!" 

It was a rare afternoon when both of my children had other supervision - thanks to Clovis and Cornelia. I had been on my way to visit Bethany in her private suite when I passed the gameroom, and decided to be the overbearing mother by checking up on my son.

"I'm busy." Lelouch waved the girl away with a gesture he must have inherited from Charles. His eyes never left the small, black army on the chess board.

Clovis looked up at the girl, his blond hair flopping over his forehead into his eyes. He was Henrietta Montalaise el Britannia's youngest son. Schneizel, the second prince, was her oldest.

"Yeah, Stuphemia, we're busy." Clovis wrinkled his nose at the same time he pursed his lips together and whined: "Stupid Euphemia."

The little girl turned her back towards the other boy and continued to appeal to Lelouch. "You always play that game. It's boring."

He finished his move and finally looked at the girl. "It's a game of intelli…" He frowned and tried again. "inteji…" Lelouch sighed. "Only smart people can play it, so that means no girls."

"Lelouch, please?" She grabbed his arm. He scowled and pushed her away.

"I said I'm busy, so go away."

-

_At the age of five, Bethany's fears seemed to have already taken root. Euphemia, as sweet as she was, was teased by the other children of the royal family for her apparent lack of intellect. She preferred to draw and sing, and took no interest in the only pastime where you, my son, could compete with your older brothers._

_At six, it was clear you were not athletically inclined. You had a much more delicate constitution than Clovis and Schneizel - who studied every manner of swordplay and fighting. That you could be my son was a bit of a mystery, and not at all what your father had in mind._

_But chess… You could hold your own in chess. It wasn't long before you could beat Clovis at the game he taught you. And you even challenged Schneizel who had been playing since before you were born._

_That day, when I saw how you pushed Euphemia aside, my heart went out to the little girl. I'd seen others ignore her, leave her behind, even call her names, and it never seemed to bother her. But the day you sent her away…_

_You didn't see how she cried as soon as she left the room. You didn't see her fall to the ground in a heap of yellow dress and tangled pink hair… Her mother wasn't there, but I was a mother, and I couldn't help but try to comfort the little girl._

_- _

I kneeled beside her on the floor and pushed pieces of pink hair the color of Sakura blossoms out of her face. She rubbed small fists at her eyes. "I just wanted him to play with me."

"Well, maybe I can play." I smiled. "And we can have lots of fun together, ok?"

She nodded and looked up at me. "Ok."

I sat down on the floor. "What would you like to play?"

The little girl dropped her hands to clutch handfuls of her dress. She stared at her shoes. "Lelouch plays the daddy. And I play the mommy."

"Can I be the Aunt?"

She shook her head. "No. You can't."

"Are you sure? I'd really like to." I smiled wider. She had full, fat cheeks, and bright blue eyes. "I guess I can't pretend to be the daddy."

She sniffled and her lower lip protruded. "If Lelouch was with me. We'd be a happy family."

I stood and offered my hand to Euphemia, intending to walk her back to her mother's suite. "I think it's time for a nap." She looked at my hand, then up at me. More tears slipped down her face. "Come on, I'll—"

"I love him," she said and took off down the hallway, running as fast as her little legs could carry her beneath the flurry of lace and yellow dress.

* * *

_I didn't think much about it, then. I just imagined it was nice to know that at least one of your siblings, besides Nunally (who was a little over a year old at the time), cared about you._

_Over the next year, though, you rarely saw Euphemia. She and Cornelia were placed under a separate tutor, and when she wasn't studying, she was dancing. And when you weren't in classes, you were arguing with Schneizel or reading books on chess. You became obsessed, but there didn't seem to be anything I could do…_

_I tried to talk to you about it. I scolded you. I even tried punishing you. But it was difficult to discipline and keep after you when Nunally took so much of my time and energy. After several months with no positive change in your behavior, I finally resorted to talking to your father._

_- _

I found Charles in his office after dinner. His robe of state had been removed; it hung on the back of his chair. He wore a button-down white shirt with the top two buttons undone and its sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie and powdered wig lay discarded on the far edge of his desk.

Moonlight from the window streaked his chestnut hair. Ornate torchiere lamps lit the corners of the room, and Charles studied his work beneath a fluorescent desk light. His eyebrows appeared almost black where they pinched above grey-green eyes. He always looked so severe…. I could count on one hand the number of times in seven years I'd seen him genuinely smile.

But for all his faults, there was something comforting about lying next to my husband at night. His deep voice had a soothing quality - when he spoke of things that pleased him. On the occasions he spent an evening away, I'd curl up with his pillow and breathe the lingering musk of his cologne.

I was so caught up in my thoughts I completely missed the small figure next to him until she spoke. "Papa, I drew you a picture." The little girl with pink hair tugged on her father's sleeve. True to his nature, Charles didn't even glance her way. I slipped quietly back into the hall and peered through the crack I left in the doorway.

"I'm busy."

She stood on tiptoe, resting her hands on his arm as she tried to peek at the papers on his desk. "Can I help?"

He growled. "Where's your mother?"

"She's in bed." She rocked back to her heels. "I think mamma's sick. Will you come see her?"

"Not now."

"Can I sit in your lap?" She asked in a sweet voice. "I could help you finish your work. And show you my picture."

"Euphemia." The emperor glanced down at the little girl, and she lit up. Her whole face broke out into a grin from ear to ear like he'd just given her a pony for her birthday. I watched my husband, who never seemed to have time for any of his children, sigh. And to my utter amazement, he leaned back in the chair. His daughter grabbed onto his arm and he lifted at the same time she climbed, until Euphemia was seated in his lap.

For the next several minutes, I watched father and daughter interact. The little girl would point to something and ask Charles what it said. Sometimes, he answered. Sometimes he didn't. And then she began to chatter.

"I'm learning ballet, papa."

He grunted something I didn't catch.

"I don't like Mrs. Sunderland. She always yells at me."

Her father didn't reply.

"Am I smart, papa?"

"Of course." He flipped a page. "You're my child."

"Clovis says I'm stupid. But Lelouch says Clovis is too stupid to beat him at chess."

Another grunt – it sounded like: "Chess."

"I don't like chess, papa. But Lelouch is always playing that, now." She turned a page for her father. "He doesn't play with me anymore."

"Then ask Schneizel."

"But papa, I want Lelouch to play." She whined and turned around in his lap.

"We can't always have what we want, Euphemia. Go find your mother and go to bed."

"Yes, papa." She struggled down to the floor. She turned and saw her picture lying on the carpet. Euphemia picked it up and offered it to her father. "I made this for you."

"Leave it there." Charles sounded annoyed.

"It's a picture of you."

He arched an eyebrow as he looked down at his child again. "Me?"

Euphemia placed the large sheet of paper on her father's desk. "I drew you and mommy, and me," she said as she pointed to the page. "And that's Cornelia, and Aunt Marianne. And this is Lelouch and baby Nunally."

The Emperor settled a hand on his daughter's head. "You have to go, now, Euphemia. I'm busy."

"Ok, papa. Goodnight." The little girl ran towards the door at the same time I slipped into the room.

Charles glanced up. He scowled at me and turned his eyes back towards the mountain of papers on his desk. "What is it you want, Marianne?"

"I've come to talk about your son."


	3. A little girl's interference

**The Power of the Queen**

by the Black Rose

**AN:** Please forgive the long delay in posting this chapter. I hope to update more frequently from now on.  
Also! A warm thank you to Rose Lee for her help with beta-ing this chapter. All the best, Rose

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Marianne POV.

-

Charles stood from his chair and shot me a black look before turning away. He stared out the window that looked over the garden separating my cottage from the palace. "I fail to see why I should care, Marianne."

"He's your son." I moved around the side of his desk to stand near him. Moonlight touched the tips of magnolia trees and glittered along the stone path meandering from one residence to the other. "This obsession of his, it isn't healthy." I placed a hand on his arm.

"They're all my sons." He glanced at me out of the side of his eye. "It's not my problem if they want to fight amongst themselves. I don't require them to get along."

"Charles."

He stomped back to his desk and thunked down in his chair. "Go and stop bothering me with these trivial things."

"He's your son. Can't you take a little interest in him from time to time?"

He growled something unintelligible.

I charged across the room to lean over his desk, slamming my hand down in the middle of his papers. "You've spent time with Schneizel, even Clovis. Lelouch doesn't—"

"Euphemia obeys better than you and she's five." His eyes rose and fixed me with that cold stare that sent shivers down my spine. "Leave, Marianne."

I retreated, performing the requisite curtsy before stepping out of the room. "Yes, your highness."

-

_As I should have expected, your father refused to take any part in your life. I honestly don't know what I would have done had things not turned out the way they did…_

_Not a month passed before Bethany summoned me to her room – not the first time in the last few weeks as she'd found herself unusually tired. She'd call me, and we'd have tea in her sitting room where she sat in nothing more than her dressing gown. This day, she informed me the royal doctor had diagnosed her with cancer of the bone marrow. He didn't give her long, and true to form, she didn't even fight._

_Six months dragged by and she was gone._

_Bethany didn't ask me, but maybe she didn't think it was necessary… I was a mother. Bethany was my friend. I assumed I'd be the one to take in Cornelia and Euphemia – to raise her children as my own. But your father had other, more horrifying ideas._

_But Charles never was one who could express his grief._

-

Henrietta, Schneizel's mother, paid a rare visit to my home shortly after Bethany's funeral to inform me of what our husband intended to do with the two girls. Neither of us thought it was right, but only I was willing to do something about it.

I found him, days after Bethany's funeral, in his meditation room – a place Charles went to be alone. It was sparsely furnished, with an oval-shaped rug on a stone floor and a single, leather chair and ottoman. No one could bother him there, save a small list of servants and, of course, his wives. I found him aloof and alone, pacing in his robes of state with a stern expression cast on his features like a sculptor had carved him out of stone."They're no use to me." He let out a soft groan as he lowered himself into the overstuffed chaise.

I moved to stand at the foot of his chair. "Charles, you can't do this. They're only children and—"

"I can. And will do whatever I choose." He snarled in my direction without looking at me. "And I will send that woman's children to the ends of the Earth if that's what I—"

I stomped my foot and planted both hands on my hips. "They're your children!"

"I have," his eyes narrowed, "several children."

"But, Cornelia and Euphemia— Please, Charles." I sat on the ottoman, next to his feet, and placed one hand on his shin. "They lost their mother; don't turn them into hostages in some foreign, God-forsaken place. I've already begun preparing rooms for them."

He shifted his feet; his heels clanked on the stone floor as my husband rose from his chair.

"They're all I have left of my friend - her daughters." I bowed my head and whispered. "Please."

"I won't let you change my mind, Marianne." His voice rumbled in a strange fashion. I looked up and just caught the tear in the corner of his eye before he turned away.

"Do not speak on this subject to me again."

-

_Fortunately, Bethany's family still had some influence, and so it was her brother, not me, who was able to keep his nieces from being used as bargaining chips with the Russian kingdom. I'm sure it was my friendship with their daughter that caused the family to allow the little girls to remain with us for most of the ensuing years._

_Though, I must admit, Lelouch, my motives for taking them in weren't entirely selfless._

_First and foremost, I truly wanted to protect Bethany's children. I also wished that if my children were ever, heaven forbid, in the same situation, that one of the other Imperial wives might accept you and Nunnally into their homes. And I possessed an increasing desire to keep the connection with Bethany's family. I had no political standing or influence outside of my marriage to Charles - who became more and more difficult to move over the coming months._

_I also confess that I sincerely hoped Euphemia might be able to reach you, my son - when I could not. It isn't the last time I used her in such a manner, although the first time just had far less devastating consequences. _

_I hope that when I see her again she can forgive me._

_For all that I've done._

* * *

It was almost a year later when I remember visiting with the girls outside in the garden, the sun in the last phase of its arc through the sky. I let Euphemia help me as I watered the shrubs of Virginia Roses. Nunnally watched us from the lawn, playing with the little pot of dirt and plastic garden trowel I gave her. 

We finished watering, and I bent to pull a few weeds near the base of the shrubs. Euphemia started to kneel down to help me. "Why don't you go watch Nunnally for me? I don't want you to get your dress dirty."

"Ok, Aunt Marianne." She ran off in the direction of my youngest.

The roses… I remember. They were the same color as Euphemia's hair. And smelled faintly sweet. Just a hint of floral perfume would waft from the blooms as the wind tittered through their leaves. I looked over at the two girls. It occurred to me, then, how sad it was that Bethany would never see Euphemia or Cornelia grow up…

Nunnally threw her plastic flower pot on the ground, and stood up. I picked up my skirt and hastened towards the girls. I arrived just in time to see my daughter's four-year-old face pinch into a frown at the same time her cheeks puffed out like a bullfrog's. "I wanna be his bride." She crossed her short arms over her chest.

The weekend before, I'd brought the girls to a wedding. Bethany's brother had married the daughter of an Italian Count. She wore an amazing gown, almost as fine as the one Charles gave me for our wedding day. Euphemia and Nunnally had been in awe. And ever since, they'd been arguing over which one would get to be Lelouch's honored bride.

I'm sure it was my motherly pride that found the situation gratifying – despite the fact they were both his sisters. My handsome son…

Euphemia kneeled on the edge of her dress in the grass (after I told her not to get dirty) and picked through leaf after leaf in a cluster of clovers. "But Nunnally, I already said—"

"No!" She threw the trowel down on the concrete patio. "You can't be Lil-oosh. You can't be his bride. I will."

Euphemia offered her some clovers. "Well, Papa has more than one wife. We can share, too."

"No!" Nunnally pushed the older girl's hand away. I decided it was time to step in. I bent down to swoop up my very tired, very cross daughter.

"Seems like it's time for someone to take a nap."

"Nooooooooooooooooo!" Nunally shrieked and kicked as I pulled her up into my arms. "Euphemia, I'll be back in a few minutes. If you see Lelouch—"

Euphemia stood and clasped her hands at her waist. They taught these children etiquette at such a young age. "He's playing chess." Her head bowed. "As always."

"Do you-" Nunnally squirmed, and I shifted her in my arms. "Do you think you could find a reason to interrupt them? He really needs to do his schoolwork," I said with a sigh. "His tutor says he's falling behind and—"

She looked up, and a large smile bloomed on her features. "I can try, Aunt Marianne."

- 

_I don't know what I thought she'd do. Maybe she'd tiptoe into the game room where you boys secreted yourselves away and make a nuisance of herself – like she could do – and tell you your mother wanted to see you right away._

_This is what I expected. And thus, as soon as Nunnally was down for her nap, I followed the little girl, intending to back up her story._

_What I found, however, was that she must have just arrived…_

_- _

The game room was a traditional room for gentlemen, with wood floors and oak paneling. Heads of wild game adorned the walls. An ornately carved gambling table used to have its own corner of the room, but the boys dragged it to the center for their daily matches. I could still smell the scent of stale tobacco despite the fact no one had smoked there in years.

Two, tow-headed boys huddled on one side of the board, facing my son. Lelouch sat with his back to the doorway while commanding a miniature, black army situated on the chessboard. Euphemia stood to his left; she held the skirts of her dress and bowed her head as she curtsied - as if properly greeting gentlemen of high rank instead of her young, mischievous brothers.

The young princess rose from her curtsy position. "Schneizel."

"Euphemia." Her brother returned her greeting with a nod of his head. Schneizel was the oldest of the three boys, and honestly, I had nothing to reproach the young man with other than being better at chess than my son. He was very different than Lelouch, and equally as different from his younger brother Clovis, despite the similarities in their appearance.

Schneizel stood and ducked his blond head in a polite gesture to acknowledge his sister. A white suit jacket remained on the back of his chair, and he wore navy slacks with a button down shirt - requisite attire for his private tutoring sessions. "Is there something we can do for you, Princess?" He gave her a smile that caused his left cheek to dimple.

She raised her chin and I saw her shoulders square. She looked like a very small version of a woman. "I came to ax- To ask you to release Lelouch."

Schneizel frowned. "I wasn't aware I was detaining him." He crossed his arms against his chest.

"Euphemia…" I heard Lelouch's voice, and didn't like its tone. It started out low and grew louder, like a growl from an angry beast.

"You're the oldest, Schneizel. As our older brother, you set uh example. You shouldn't tease—"

"Euphemia!" Lelouch shot out of his chair. He took a menacing step towards the girl - gangly legs in grey school shorts which covered his knees. "You're interrupting—"

"Let her finish, Lelouch." Schneizel held out his arm as if he meant to hold my son back.

"I know he likes to play against you, but you don't know how it affects him. His studies are suffering. His mother is worried."

Clovis snorted and tossed his long blond hair. "Aww, poor little Lelouch, his mommy—"

"Shut up!" Lelouch turned a hateful glare on the other boy.

"Lelouch, Clovis," Schneizel addressed his two brothers even though his eyes never left his sister. "Euphemia's concerns are valid." He dropped his arms but kept his position. "Though I wonder if you've taken into account, princess, that Lelouch has chosen this for himself."

She fisted both hands in her long skirt and leaned forward. "But would he, if you stopped fighting and told him you love and respect him? Isn't that what he really wants?"

Schneizel's eyebrows rose. He brought a hand to his chin and seemed to regard his sister for a moment. Euphemia's chest heaved as if she was laboring to breathe. The prince nodded as a faint smile touched his lips. "Fair enough."

Clovis jumped to his feet. "Lelouch, you had to bring our little sister here—"

"Clovis, you should admit you admire Lelouch." Euphemia turned her attention to the other boy. "You taught him how to play. He learned from you."

Clovis huffed and sat down. Schneizel's smile faded. "Dearest Euphemia." The older boy took her arm and folded it through his. He walked her to the door. "You've grown so much."

"Schneizel…"

He pushed the door aside and she stepped out into the hall. The prince took her hand. "I'll do what I can. But have you considered, Euphemia, how Lelouch will view your interference, today?"

Her hand slipped from his as she bowed her head. "I know he'll be mad. But at least Aunt Marianne won't have to worry anymore." She looked up again, and I'm sure I saw tears.

"And Nunnally can have her brother back."

* * *

_Euphemia didn't wait for you, Lelouch, choosing instead to run off to… I'm not sure where. But, she apparently trusted Schneizel completely. He closed the door as soon as she had gone.  
_

_I couldn't hear what was said, but when the door reopened, you and Schneizel emerged. He bowed his head, and you told him that next time you'd beat him. Your brother responded that indeed he'd wait for your challenge at the next match. My heart sunk for just a moment until it was mentioned that your next, scheduled match wouldn't be for several months. You shook his hand, and I saw something I hadn't seen in quite a while... You smiled. And then you moved to join me where I was waiting down the hall._

_We talked, as you may remember, and we set some sanity around your pursuit of chess. We scheduled time for you to make up your study work, and agreed there was to be no chess for the next month – until you had completed your assignments._

_You apologized to me. And I suggested that you apologize to Euphemia as well. At the mention of her name, you became incensed._

_- _

"She's just a pain!" He crossed his arms over his white, short-sleeved shirt. His dark eyebrows formed a deep 'v' over the bridge of his nose. "I can't stand—"

"Lelouch vi Britannia." I knelt and placed a hand on his shoulder, but my son wrenched away.

"I don't want to hear it," he mumbled, turning his back towards me.

I stood up. "Where did you learn these manners?" I exclaimed. "I know Schneizel is better behaved than this, and I taught you to have more respect for me." I lowered my voice. "Don't make me tell your father you're not minding."

Lelouch ducked his head. I pulled on his arm until he turned around to face me. He sunk to the floor and hugged his knees to his chest. He wouldn't look at me.

"Lelouch…" I sighed and knelt down beside him again. "You know I love you, don't you?"

"Yes," he replied in a dull voice. He stared at his kneecaps. I smoothed my hand over his fine, dark hair, tucking strands behind his ear.

"And you know how silly I can be sometimes, when I worry about you. Because I love you," I smiled and leaned into his line of vision, "so much."

His eyes finally met mine. "Yes, mother."

"That's why Euphemia talked to Schneizel and Clovis. She was trying to help because she loves you very much." I slid my arms around his shoulders and hugged him. "I know you're angry with her, but things will be better now. For all of us."

He rested his chin on top of his knees. I pulled away. "You love her, too, don't you?"

"Maybe." I saw him frown before he sat up and glanced away. "I'm just mad right now. I wanted to—"

"I know." I turned his chin to make him look at me. I smiled at him and the frown evaporated from his features.

"But you'll forgive her, won't you?"

Lelouch sighed. "I guess so," he said and rolled his eyes. "She won't leave me alone until I do."

* * *

_Looking back on those days, I still can't figure out why things changed the way they did. What could have prompted the transformation I saw in you? I don't know what Schneizel said, but a sort of peace settled over the three of you. It lasted for a while, although I'd still catch you from time to time – arguing over checkers or some other board game (ANY other board game) - it was never the same as when you three would shut yourselves in the game room for hours upon hours, day after day, locked in battle over a game of chess._

_Yet nothing could replace your love for that game. _

_It wasn't the peace between you and your brothers that began to concern me. I was pleased with that. It was what happened after…The beginnings of which I can't quite pinpoint, even with this trip down memory lane. Perhaps it was the day she walked into that room with the three of you there. Perhaps Schneizel saw what I did. Perhaps he saw something else... _

_Maybe it was the revelation that she loved you. I honestly can't say. I only know when I first began to notice…_

_- _

"When a girl becomes a bride, she can't marry anyone else, can she?" My son's voice spoke from behind me. I thought he was in bed, and so I was reading one of my favorite books – for the hundredth time – at the dining room table. The light still burned in Charles's office…

I turned in my chair to look at my little prince. He stood there in his blue, flannel pajamas, but he didn't look like he'd been in bed, yet. He frowned at me like he was annoyed with my lack of response. "Well?"

"Excuse me? Say that again?"

He crossed his arms. "You can't marry someone else and still be married to father, right?"

"No, of course not." I put my book down on the table and turned my full attention to my son. "Why do you ask?"

"But father can have more than one wife." Lelouch stepped closer.

I couldn't help myself; I reached over and pushed pieces of hair out of his scowling, but so-handsome face and smiled. "Yes."

He dropped his arms to his side. I pulled him closer and the scowl disappeared. He met my gaze. "Does he have to be married to more than one?"

"No. If he wanted to marry only one woman, he could have chosen to do so." I planted a kiss on top of his head.

"Ok." He returned my hug. "Goodnight, mother," he said and turned around. He dashed towards the door.

"Why did you ask me that, Lelouch?"

He froze. "It's nothing." He threw the words over his shoulder and ran out of the room.

-

_At first I chalked that little conversation up to the growing resentment you seemed to have for your father. I suppose I was naïve in that respect. But I don't think mothers consider how quickly their children mature, and especially how open a child's heart really is. _

_I wondered sometimes if it could have been anyone… You were often gentle with both Nunnally and Cornelia. But, over time, I began to notice a marked difference between the gentleness you displayed towards your sisters, and the way you treated Euphemia._

_Though I have to admit, it took someone pointing it out to me in no uncertain terms._

_And that someone was you._


	4. A Young Man in Love

**The Power of the Queen**

by the Black Rose

**AN:** I'm sorry, I'm still struggling through problems in my personal life. I did place a preview of chapter 4 at the bottom of this entry. That chapter will catch us up to the time of the (first) series - and episode 8 where Zero and Euphemia meet for the first time. Then, chapter 5 will weave us in and out of the events from 8-21. Chapter 5 is accompanied by a side-story, entitled "In the Days I have Left", written primarily from Lelouch's POV, and containing a Lelouch x Euphie lemon. I will attempt to post what I can of the side story as it's own entry on FFN, and just link the lemon from my profile page (as per the usual).

**This chapter is Lelouch x Euphie, which means it deals with (incestuous) affection between half-siblings** (who are 8 years old). As you may or may not be expecting, chapter 4 will begin to introduce Suzaku into the equation.

Thank you so incredibly much for reading, and for any reviews or comments you care to leave. Warmest regards, Rose

* * *

**Chapter 3**

_If I believed for the first seven years of your life that you had a fondness for Euphemia, I also believed those feelings to be nothing more than a pleasing, brotherly affection. When you were eight, however, I sensed an entirely different kind of devotion beginning to take root. _

_I told myself your feelings were just misplaced. Children feel, with naïve passion and courage, unable to understand the difference between the types of love the human heart contains. And they understand even less, the limitations society would eventually impose upon their small, pure, hearts. After all, Nunnally thought she could marry her brother. And Bethany's niece thought she could marry her father. _

_Of course, these children were much younger than my eight-year-old son._

_-_

Euphemia twirled around in the center of the parlor room, her pink hair dancing and spinning along with her. Schneizel sat on the end of the sofa, watching quietly. A soft smile seemed to settle on his lips. I turned the knob on the faucet and glanced down at the clay-baked flower pot in the sink. I was capitalizing on Nunally's naptime to repot a favorite orchid plant.

"Schneizel, when do we go to my recital?" Euphemia didn't stop twirling as she spoke to her brother.

"We're waiting for Lelouch and Cornelia."

I looked up at the sound of my son's name – just in time to see the girl stand on tiptoe and perform another, wobbling, pirouette.

"They should hurry up!"

Schneizel chuckled. His voice sounded deep and manly, even at age sixteen. "Maybe you should sit down and save your energy for your performance."

Euphemia stopped twirling and stuck out her bottom lip.

"Come here," her brother said and patted the sofa cushion, "you can sit by me while we wait. I'm sure they'll arrive in a few minutes and then we can go."

She moved to spill rather indelicately next to her brother on the couch. "Lelouch is probably arguing with Clovis, again. I hate it when they fight."

"Well, that'll stop soon. Clovis is going away to school in August."

The corners of her mouth drooped as she lowered her head. "I'll miss him."

Schneizel placed a fond hand on the crown of his sister's hair. "Are you going to dance with your hair down?"

Euphemia huffed and crossed her arms; her pink brows contracted in the center of her forehead. "I wanted Cornelia to braid it so it would stay out of my way. But she's taking forever!"

Schneizel chuckled. "Well, if I drive, could she do your hair on the way?"

The little girl bit her lip; she seemed to puzzle over that solution. And then her entire face lit up like the sunrise. She let out a squeal and threw her arms around Schneizel's neck. I smiled and turned back to pouring organic soil into the new clay pot.

I heard a sound coming from the direction of the front door. I glanced up, hoping to greet my son. Sure enough, he stood in the doorway, wearing his school clothes with his collar unbuttoned and his books clutched to his chest. Dark hair curled around his ears. "There you—"

The textbooks dropped to the floor with a loud BANG! "Schneizel!" A voice that sounded like a roar from a large beast resounded in the room, even though it came from the tiny body of my son.

The older boy released Euphemia. She jumped to her feet; Schneizel rose to stand behind her. "Lelouch," the little girl's face brightened, "you're—"

My son stomped forward and grabbed her arm. He yanked her away from Schneizel.

"Ow," she cried and stumbled forward. I watched as my son moved to stand between Euphemia and her older brother. I placed the flower pot on the counter and began peeling off my gloves.

"Schneizel…" Lelouch glowered at his brother.

The older boy's eyebrows shot up. "I don't understand what—"

I threw my gloves into the sink and dashed around the counter into the living room. "Boys. Euphemia will be late to her recital if you don't leave, now."

Lelouch scowled in my direction, still holding on to the girl. I couldn't help but wonder what on earth had gotten into him?

"Lelouch, you wanted to go to her recital, didn't you?" I bent down to look him directly in the eyes.

He glanced at Euphemia before letting go of her arm.

I soothed pieces of my son's dark hair behind his ear. "Schneizel has offered to drive you."

Lelouch frowned.

"You can sit next to me on the way." Euphemia leaned close to him and smiled. "If Cornelia will go, I'm hoping she'll do my hair, but—"

"Do what to it?" Lelouch turned and focused on the little girl.

"I want her to braid it." Euphemia picked up the ends of her hair and combed her fingers through the loose ponytail. "It gets tangled when I dance."

"But I like it down."

I stood up. Schneizel glanced at me, but what could I say? He was my son. But, I couldn't explain his behavior. Not at all. I shrugged my shoulders and looked away.

"Are you going to brush the tangles out?" Euphemia released her hair to plant both hands on her hips – something she must have learned from watching me. I don't remember her mother ever affecting such a pose.

"Hm." Lelouch raised one hand to cover his mouth – a sign that he was considering something. His eyes had already changed; so had his posture. My son had a way of seething with his entire body: his cheeks became mottled, his face squinched up, his dark blue eyes blazed. It was a tiny, masculine version of my own features, when I was angry.

Then, in an instant, it was gone. Erased. As if something pure and gentle had washed it away – the way spring rains cleanse the air and nurture my garden. A soft smile curved his lips as he regarded this girl. Bethany's daughter.

"First, you want me to watch you dance, now I have to brush your hair? I thought I was a prince, not a servant."

She stuck her tongue at him. But I saw my son's smile widen when she took his hand. Euphemia tugged on Schneizel's arm. And the three of them left together for the recital.

* * *

I paced the plush, carpeted floor of my husband's office. Silence hung like a thick, damp tapestry in the middle of the room - an invisible divider. And Charles and I were always divided, though I don't know if I fully grasped just how deep our division went until that day.

After stepping the same path for what had to be several minutes (but felt like hours) - bookshelf to bookshelf, my skirt brushing the front ledge of his desk, and my stomach tying and untying itself into knots. I stopped and glared at the back of the man who took me for his wife.

I threw my arms up and expelled a loud breath. "Have you nothing to say?"

He stood with shoulders straight and stiff with his hands clasped behind his back staring out the window; gold dripped down both arms to meet the blue silk of the state uniform he wore despite the late hour.

"What do you want of me?" Charles's gravelly voice finally sounded in the room. He didn't turn around, instead he seemed to speak to the glass. "You chose to keep the girl."

"Your daughter!" I stamped my foot into the carpet. "And yes, I chose to keep her, but it doesn't seem natural for the—"

"How many children have you raised?" He pivoted and cast a sidelong glance in my direction.

"How many? Lelouch is my first child—"

"Then how do you know what's natural or not?" He returned to staring out the window.

I sighed and felt the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach begin to dissipate. "I suppose…you have a point. But what if—" The words died on my lips when Charles turned around to face me.

He raised his chin and leveled a cold stare down the line of his nose. "You object to your son, then, consorting with that woman's daughter? Even though she is the one with the higher rank."

My insides re-knotted themselves. Rank? This wasn't a matter of rank! It was common sense. "She's his half-sister, Charles. That's my objection. They have the same father, it's not—"

"There is no law against it in this family."

I felt my heart contract out of turn. "But certainly, y-y-you can't mean that." The room began to spin. "You don't? Y-y-you," I pressed a hand to my chest. It pounded like it might leap out of my ribcage and splosh onto his desk. "You wouldn't stop them?"

He snorted. "I have my reservations." Charles turned back to regard the window. "But I expect they're nothing you've considered."

"Such as?" I grasped onto the edge of the desk and lowered myself into a chair. The room continued to whirl in slow circles around me.

"Your son is the eleventh prince, seventeenth in line, as you should be aware."

"Yes…"

"Therefore, the possibility of making a powerful alliance in his position is not high. Only nobles with lower stations would set their sights on him. And he isn't close enough to the crown to accept an alliance from abroad."

His voice ebbed and flowed in the room, like water in a dream. But, this was real.

"Euphemia, however, as the third princess, she'll be sought after inside the court as well as outside the borders of Britannia."

Something clicked in my brain. I glanced up at Charles. "So, if—"

"If they insist on continuing this nonsense when they're older, I would require substantial convincing to allow your son to court Euphemia li Britannia." The emperor turned and regarded me with a haughty sneer on his lips.

"Consider that as you're wresting with your religious mores, Marianne."

-

_Like I said, Charles and I were always divided. He was not someone I could understand. Despite being married to him, I don't think there were two more different people residing in the same universe. But, I suppose if it wasn't for his perspective, I might not have begun to rethink mine. _

_After regaining my breath and wandering home to my cottage that evening, long after the children had gone to sleep, I lay awake, reflecting on your father's words. _

_As horrifying as it originally seemed, I had to admit there was some part of me that did wish to see you gain position and influence within the court - something I desired, but failed to possess. And worse, I had no ability to provide it for you, even more so because I couldn't see doing my children the disservice of arranging a marriage solely for that purpose. _

_But if you happened to love a woman who could change your future… Could I stop you, my dearest son? Could I separate you from the person you held so dear…_

_And if I could, would I? _

* * *

"Lelouch!" Euphemia stood in his bedroom doorway with both hands grasping the handle of the door. My son actually glanced up from his chess match against the computer. "It's almost time for the fireworks to start."

He grunted and returned his attention to the screen.

"Lelouch!"

He frowned. "I'm busy."

She released the door handle and stepped inside the room. The little girl planted both hands on her waist. Her face crumpled. "You've been ignoring me all day."

"I'm not ignoring you," Lelouch said with a click of the mouse. "If I was ignoring you, I wouldn't speak to you." His eyes followed movement on his monitor. "I'm speaking. I'm just busy."

"But you're going to miss the fireworks!"

"They'll have them again next year."

She huffed and crossed her arms. "But I wanted to watch them with you."

Lelouch frowned at his game. "I'm sure Mother and Nunnally—"

"But I wanted to watch them with you," she whined. Her chin wobbled and I saw tears prick her eyes.

My son lifted his gaze to focus on Euphemia. She brightened. "Come with me?" The little girl held out her hand.

His lips curved into a grin. Then he rose and took her hand. A loud boom shattered the quiet of the house. Her eyes widened. "They're already starting!"

Laughing, the two children ran into the back yard, tripping over the concrete patio to spill onto the lawn. I followed, toting Nunnally in one hand – her head on my shoulder, curled up against my side - and a pitcher of koolaid in the other.

Euphemia lay on the ground next to Lelouch. My son leaned back on both elbows to stare at the sky. The little girl tugged on his sleeve.

"It's better if you lay down," she said in a loud whisper. "It's like they're right above us."

Lelouch relented, and Nunnally was quick to follow suit – lying down on the ground near her older siblings to watch the fireworks burst and shimmer overhead. The night air felt warm and humid. There wasn't much of a breeze, but the occasional whisp of air carried the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers. Fireworks popped and fizzed; I could hear Nunnally gasp with delight every time a new burst of color soared through the sky.

Just before the finale began, I glanced over at my son. He was smiling and holding hands with Euphemia. I felt my heart tear, but it was lost in the roar and thunder of the fireworks. Light streaked through the night sky in a jumble of hues. They swirled and danced, then fell back to earth. When the last manmade star fizzled, Nunnally stood and threw her arms around my neck. "More mommy!" I laughed and hugged her back. Then I felt my attention drawn to the other two children.

They sat near each other, their hands intertwined. Lelouch looked down and then cast a shy glance at Euphemia. "Euphie…"

I caught my breath. His nickname for her when they were small, and he had trouble saying her name. But, he hadn't called her that in…so many years.

Euphemia turned and looked at Lelouch, she gave him a soft smile. "Yes?"

"I-I liked watching you dance. At your recital. Thank you for inviting me."

She scooted closer to him. He held her hand even while she shifted. I don't know if she said anything, because Nunnally picked that moment to squeal in my ear. I pulled my daughter into my lap.

And caught a glimpse of my son: brushing pieces of hair from Euphemia's shoulder in a gesture that made me think of a young man in love. She leaned her head on the top of his arm.

* * *

The door lurched open. Schneizel stood on the other side, a ballerina with pink hair down to his knees lay in his arms. She clung to his neck, her face twisted in an expression of torment. One shoe on, one shoe off; her naked right ankle looked like someone had replaced the bone with a red-skinned softball. I winced and jumped from my seat. My stomach sank. The poor girl.

"She fell during practice," Schneizel greeted me. His eyebrows formed an alarmed peak over the bridge of his nose. "Where should I put her?"

"Don't put me down," Euphemia wailed. "It hurts, Schneizel."

"You can place her there, on the sofa. I'll call for the doctor." I turned away, rushing into the kitchen to retrieve the phone and place the call to Dr. Sinclair. I don't remember the conversation, only that it was necessarily short. By the time I returned to the main parlor room, Euphemia was resting flat on her back; Schneizel propped her injured leg on the arm of the couch.

He glanced at me. "Do you have some ice?"

"Oh!" My hand flew to my mouth and I spun right back around and headed straight towards the refrigerator.

"Don't go," the little girl whimpered. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see Schneizel sit beside her on the sofa.

"It'll be all right." He reached down and stroked her hair.

I opened the freezer, removing the icemaker to place it on the counter. I grabbed a dish towel from the drawer next to the sink and began plucking cubes from the tray to make up a compress. And that's where I was when I heard his voice.

"Euphie?" My son whimpered. I glanced to my left in time to see him dash around the sofa and kneel beside her. "What happened?"

"I fell. My ankle just," tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. "It hurts."

"She'll be fine," Schneizel's deeper voice sounded comforting – very much like his father's (when Charles wasn't angry). "We already summoned the doctor. He'll probably want to do x-rays to make sure she didn't break anything—"

"Break? Did she have to walk—"

"Schneizel carried me."

"Schneizel…" Lelouch's voice grew louder. I ran out of ice chips and had to pull a knife from the block to chisel out more pieces.

"She probably sprained her ankle," the older boy said in a patient tone. "I don't think it's more serious than that."

"You're not a doctor! How long does the doctor take to get here?"

I turned around at the sound of my son's tirade. The knife slipped and ice jumped from the tray, spilling onto the floor. I swore under my breath as I bent down to pick up my mess.

"Lelouch, I'm okay. It hurts, but," Euphemia pleaded, "not so much you should yell."

"I'm not yelling, I just—"

"Your mother is getting some ice. That should help."

"She's not your servant."

"I didn't mean it like that, Lelouch. Why are you—"

I took my cue and brought the towel containing the ice and gave it to my son. "Here, sweetie, can you help Euphemia put this on her ankle?"

His hand hovered with the icepack over her skin and he looked at me. I smiled and gave a nod of my head. Lelouch settled the ice on top of her foot. Euphemia hissed. My son glanced down at her, but continued to arrange the compress around her ankle bone. When it was in place, he returned to her side. "Are you okay, Euphie?" I didn't miss the cross look he shot at Schneizel.

"It hurts. Will the doctor make it feel better?"

"Schneizel should have kept you there. The doctor would have already looked at it, by now!"

Schneizel looked at me. I gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Lelouch, can you explain why you're angry with me?" Schneizel crossed his arms and frowned at the younger prince. "I was only trying—"

"I'll go get the damned doctor!" My son jumped to his feet and stomped towards the door. I stood in his way.

"Lelouch! You won't speak that way to your brother."

"Lelouch…" Euphemia sniffled and sat up; she reached for him, catching his sleeve with the tips of her fingers. My son turned around.

"Euphie, I—"

She took his hand. "Just stay with me and it'll feel better."

* * *

_An hour later, after the doctor had come and gone… _

_-_

I remembered the ice maker I had left out on the counter and settled on cleaning up my kitchen. I wasn't surprised when Schneizel followed me. I could guess at what he wanted to say. "He's very protective of her."

"So I see. I just don't understand," Schneizel ran a hand through his blond hair, "I can't seem to do right by him," he said from his position in the center of my kitchen.

"I don't think it's you personally." I poured the half-melted cubes and water into the sink. "He gets along with you better than he does Clovis. I would say it's," I glanced at him over my shoulder, "no offense, something to do with feeling competitive against his older brothers, but he gets the same way around Cornelia."

Schneizel crossed the short distance to lean against the counter next to the sink. "He's a very intelligent child. Just, I…"

I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want him to see what I knew would be written all over my face - that I believed my son was in love with his sister. "Yes?" I kept my gaze focused on the ice tray in the sink and hoped he couldn't tell my heart was pounding in my throat.

"If you'll forgive me, Marianne. I heard his tutor remark that Lelouch can be difficult at times."

I sighed and felt like sagging to the floor. "Yes, he can be." I stopped fussing over the icemaker. I turned towards Schneizel and smiled. "But I truly believe his heart is…." I couldn't finish the sentence as a flash of my son's face, smiling at Euphemia under the stars, came into my mind.

"I'm not suggesting he doesn't have a good heart. You can see it in the way he cares for her."

-

_"Euphie…I-I liked watching you dance. At your recital. Thank you for inviting me."_

-

"Yes," my shoulders dropped at the same time my heart fell into my stomach.

"He can be very gentle," Schneizel crossed his arms, "when it comes to her."

-

_Lelouch settled the ice on top of her foot. "Are you okay, Euphie?"_

-

I cleared my throat. "H-he has been known to get angry with her, and yell. But Euphemia…"

-

_"Are you going to brush the tangles out?"_

-

"Well, she knows exactly how to handle him." I let my gaze drift to the floor. "It's almost like he doesn't really smile, unless— "

-

_"I love him," she said and then took off down the hallway._

-

I pressed a hand to my mouth. "Oh." I glanced up at Schneizel. "I-I'm sure it's just because they're so close in age."

"Yes. And I'm happy for them." The corners of his mouth turned up, but his eyes didn't change. And I didn't think his expression looked happy. Just…sad. Or wistful, perhaps.

"Marianne? Is," he frowned, "is something troubling you?"

"N-no. Of course not." I picked the icemaker out of the sink and opened the freezer door.

-

_"Mother, what will happen to Euphemia? Clovis and Schneizel both said father will send her away."_

_"Your father wouldn't—"_

_"He would! You know he would!"_

-

"Well, I'll take my leave, now. My mother is expecting me for dinner."

"Y-yes. Of course." I gave him a quick nod and a smile while I finished settling the ice tray where it belonged. I shut the door to the freezer, and stared at it.

-

_"Mother, I-I want to save her and I can't."_

-

"Are you sure everything is all right?"

"I'm fine. I was just," I shook my head, "struck with a strange thought. It's nothing."

"Good evening, then." The prince bowed his head before turning to go.

-

_I remember that exact conversation. I remembered it so many years later…_

_I remembered thinking of you, kneeling beside a broken ballerina…picturing the way you smiled at her, the gentle way you took her hand. And it occurred to me, then, as it did a few months ago - when you met her again for the first time in more than seven years._

_The only time the rest of us see your true heart, Lelouch…_

_Is when you're with Euphemia._

* * *

**Preview to Chapter 4:**

I was 'keeping court' in the parlor that day. I wore a dress, an elaborate one reserved for courtly affairs. I had asked Cornelia to watch Nunnally and Euphemia for the afternoon. I had assumed Lelouch had things to do…Homework. Chess. His usual pursuits.

The large door at the end of the room opened under the power of the attendants. I sighed and glanced down at the carpeted walk. I really hadn't been expecting to grant an audience…

"The eleventh prince, Lelouch vie Britannia."

His name was announced, and I glanced up, poised to tell him that this wasn't the place. The admonition died on my lips. He paced up the aisle in the formal suit that showed his birth right as a prince. His black cape thrown over his shoulders. He was so handsome. Like a miniature man more than he was a little boy.

"Marianne vie Britannia." His voice shook, but it had force behind it. He gave the formal bow befitting my station. Pride swelled in my chest. My son, the prince… It occurred to me how much I'd like for him to be a king.

"I have a request."

I smiled. What could a mother truly deny her son when he went through so much trouble? "I will hear your request." I placed my hand on my lap and waited. I briefly wondered what he might request so seriously. Perhaps it was to return to his afternoon chess matches. If that were the case…

"I would like…to have your permission…" At this point, he faltered. His head bowed lower than was proper. But at nine years old… I started to point out the slight transgression when he raised it again.

"To take Euphemia li Britannia as my bride."


	5. The Power of the Queen

**The Power of the Queen**

by the Black Rose

AN: My apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. It's been a difficult time, but I'm almost divorced, although currently unemployed. I'm hoping to spend some time getting back into the habit of writing, finally.

FYI, the next chapter weaves us in and out of the events from episodes 8-21. That chapter is also accompanied by a side-story, entitled "In the Days I have Left", written primarily from Lelouch's POV, and containing a Lelouch x Euphie lemon. I will attempt to post what I can of the side story as it's own entry on FFN, and just link the lemon from my profile page (as per the usual). My thanks to those that are following this story, still. I appreciate the reviews and am always glad to hear what people think and have to say. Love, Rose

Warning: This story features a romantic storyline between half-siblings. Please do not read if you will be offended.

* * *

Chapter 4

_I was 'keeping court' in the parlor that day. I wore a dress - an elaborate affair with mounds of purple and white silk ruffles reserved for courtly affairs. I had asked Cornelia to watch Nunnally and Euphemia for the afternoon, assuming Lelouch had enough things to do, such as: homework, chess (his usual pursuits). _

_Whenever Charles visited a province or was absent for an matter of state, one of his wives sat in the throne room to hear matters from the homeland nobles. It could be anything from an invitation (which, for consideration, must be delivered in person), to a request for the assembly of a jury to hear a legal suit. I usually deferred the latter for Charles's return, but Henrietta was bold enough to make those decisions on her own. _

_It happened to be my turn that week while Charles was…somewhere. I can't for the life of me remember what kept him away. That particular day, however, I had no appointments. It was rare that nobles would purposely book a time when I was the one keeping court, as I was generally seen amongst the nobility as the queen with the least influence. Little did they know…_

_-_

A sea of grey-veined marble stretched from the edge of rich, burgundy carpet. The plush fabric dripped from a platform where the official thrones of the Britannia emperor and empress perched high above its subjects; dark crimson flowed like royal blood over chiseled steps – secured by golden rods that bolted in to the marble. The sea ended at a set of two-story carved, mahogany doors.

The doors opened under the power of the attendants. I sighed and glanced down at the carpeted walk. I couldn't decide if I was relieved (to have something to do) or disappointed. I really hadn't been expecting to grant an audience…

"The eleventh prince, Lelouch vie Britannia."

His name was announced, and I glanced up, poised to tell him that this wasn't the place. But as soon as I saw him, the admonition died. My son paced up the aisle in the formal, white suit and royal purple cravat that showed his birth right as a prince. His black cape draped over his shoulders. He was so handsome. Like a miniature man more than he was a little boy. I rose and curtsied before sitting down again. Lelouch waited for me to settle on the edge of my throne.

"Marianne vie Britannia." His voice shook, but it had force behind it. He held his right arm against his ribcage and gave the formal bow befitting my station. Pride swelled in my chest. My son, the prince… It occurred to me how much I'd like for him to be a king.

"I have a request."

I smiled. What could a mother truly deny her son when he went through so much trouble? "I will hear your request." I folded my hands in my lap and waited. I briefly wondered what he might request so seriously. Perhaps it was to return to his afternoon chess matches. I mentally frowned. If that were the case—

"I would like…to have your permission…" At this point, he faltered. His head bowed lower than was proper. But at nine years old… I started to point out the slight transgression when he raised it again.

"To take Euphemia li Britannia as my bride."

-

_I gave you the answer that I'd have to discuss it with your father. You seemed to accept my response, even though I had no intention of doing so. I knew what his answer would be. Or, at least, I knew he'd put me in the position that I would be forced to argue __for__ the engagement in an effort to persuade him out of his tirade against you. _

_I loved Euphemia and Cornelia like they were my own. I liked, very much, the effect Euphemia had on you. I couldn't deny, even with all my reservations, that she was, in many ways, good for you._

_But Charles never believed that you were good for her. And it is with deep regret, my son, that I must admit. In hindsight…_

_Charles was right._

* * *

_I was spared having to give you a straight answer by my death. If you have the power, Lelouch, to give an absolute order, I possess the strange force, a much more subtle influence, that my wishes find a way of coming true. When I'm determined to have something, I can repeat that wish in my head over and over again, and watch things take shape._

_The problem is when I feel a general desire for something…and this power takes hold._

_And so, in many ways, I believe I set about this chain reaction that has led you to where you are today. It began the day you asked to make Euphemia your bride._

_Because I wished for you to be king._

_It's exactly as you said…The power of Geass is like a contract with the devil. I made my wish, and people who otherwise wouldn't have had the power to launch an attack on our home or who would have picked another target…_

_Well, as you know, they killed the Earth-bound body I inhabited. Took me from my children. Forced them to suffer._

_My dear Nunnally…_

_And for so long, Lelouch, you made me proud. You fought to stay by your sister's side, you were kind to so many people. You held a genuine desire to help others. My son was a prince even without a title to speak of, but by his great and noble actions._

_I knew the dark places in your heart. I knew how you struggled with them. And I knew how much you missed me. And though you never mentioned it directly, I felt the loneliness in your heart…_

_And in hers._

_-_

"Father, you must have noticed!" Schneizel stood hunched over Charles's desk, one hand planted on its surface. True to his nature, my former husband stared at the computer screen in front of him – never looking at his son.

"I know you've seen—"

"I cannot be bothered with that woman's children."

Schneizel rose to his full height. "But, Euphemia won't eat."

"Then don't feed her." Charles's lip curled up into a snarl.

"She's been upset since the invasion of Japan. Because you sent Lelouch and Nunnally…." The prince stomped towards his father and grasped the man's arm. "You sent them to die!"

"If Euphemia won't eat the food I provide, then let her starve." Charles wrenched from his son's grip and scowled up at the young man. "It's one less mouth to feed."

-

_Charles became less of a mystery to me…I've looked into his heart, and I know, now, he rarely says what's there. There is a man inside that uniform, but he's been pushed aside to be this other personae we know as 'the emperor'. _

_I think you would understand him, now, Lelouch. What's left of your heart is filled with thoughts of her – bright, sparkling memories of her smile and her life. While I'm haunted by her pain._

_I still see her: Listless. Grieving._

_-_

A pink-haired lump cowered against the headboard of her bed. Her knees drawn up to form a pillow for her head; the young girl stared out the window with the eyes of a porcelain doll I once saw in a specialty shop for Victorian-era trinkets.

"Euphie, your dance class…" Schneizel knelt beside her bed and placed a fond hand on her shoulder. "Aren't you going to go?"

The young girl hugged her legs tighter and buried her face in her knees.

-

_Her blue eyes no longer held that light. She'd drift in and out of my garden like a ghost. Or a dream..._

_-_

Cornelia stormed from my cottage onto the porch. Rain poured from the rooftop in sheets and formed rivers of mud at the end of the steps. The elder princess sloshed through the garden, grabbed her teen-aged sister by the arm and yanked her inside the house.

"Euphemia li Britannia, what in the hell do you think you're doing?" Her eyes flashed like the lightning outside.

The younger princess shuddered, hair soaked, her arms pricked by the cold. Her head bowed, but she didn't answer.

Cornelia growled. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"What does it matter?" Euphemia's voice was a fierce whisper.

"What?"

"No one listens to me. Not you, not Schneizel—"

Cornelia made an indignant sound and placed both hands on her hips.

"Father, especially..." The younger princess's lips quivered. "He doesn't care what I think or what I have to say. He never has..." Another tremor racked her body.

"Euphemia. As long as you act like a child, you will be treated as one."

"Then I'm leaving!" She stomped past her sister. "I'm going away to school. Even if I have to run away."

Cornelia grabbed her elbow. "You can't be—"

Euphemia twisted from her sister's grasp and stumbled backwards. "I just…I can't live in this house, with these memories..." She rubbed at drops near the corner of her eyes, and for a moment, she was that same little girl, crying because Lelouch wouldn't play with her….

"Not for another minute." She spun on her heel and ran towards her room.

"Euphie!"

-

_While you prayed for revenge, my son…And for Nunnally._

_Euphemia prayed for you._

* * *

"I'm going to Area 11 to get things under control." Cornelia's image spoke from the communicator screen fastened to the wall of Euphemia's dorm room. The elder princess's dark, mahogany hair tied back at the base of her neck, she leaned forward - resting her weight on her sword with one hand still perched on her hip. She huffed with effort.

"I can't believe…Clovis. I haven't seen him since…" Euphemia lowered her eyes. "Since Marianne's funeral."

"I'll let you be sentimental about it, Euphie. I'm sorry. I have other concerns at the moment."

"I understand."

Cornelia straightened her posture and tucked away her sword. "Father's letting me have the Governorship."

"That's," the younger princess raised her head and stretched her mouth into a smile; her fingers gripped the edge of the monitor, "wonderful. It means he's finally—"

"I'd like for you to go with me."

"Cornelia?" Her hands dropped to her sides. "But…" She blinked several times. "I…"

"Area 11 is a long way from home, Euphemia. I've fought for this. You could live in my house and be the Vice Governor of the area."

The younger princess shook her head. "But, I haven't finished my studies…" She took a step back. "I have another year to—"

"You need the experience." Cornelia's image frowned from the screen. "You have a responsibility, Euphemia, as a member of this family. You must learn to rule. And this is an opportunity for you to do so away from father's critical eye. I'll teach you."

The younger girl looked away. She took a deep breath, folded her hands together, then nodded. "Thank you. I-I suppose you'll send someone to accompany me."

"I'll handle it. It will be good to see you again, Euphie."

"I've missed you, too, Cornelia," the princess said and smiled up at her sister. "And, I hope you know that I love you. Very much."

The elder princess's eyebrows rose. "What was that for?"

"I just…" Tears gathered in Euphemia's eyes. "Clovis. It's so sudden, and I. People seem to leave this Earth so unexpectedly. I'm tired of not being able to tell the ones I care about," her lips trembled, "how I feel. I'm tired of having that regret. So. Please don't forget that I love you."

"The people you care about," Cornelia smiled and the skin around her eyes crinkled, "we always know, Euphie. Now, pack your things and I'll see you in a few days."

-

_For a time, I feared how Euphemia would react to the knowledge that you had been the one to kill your brother Clovis. But she was…Well, her heart has always been her power. And for all these years, she held on to her love for you._

_As I watched you become more and more closed…Succumbing, little by little, to the power we call Geass. I watched it build a cage of steel around your heart. And in sharp contrast, I saw Euphemia's heart opening. Blooming like the flowers she used to watch and nurture in my gardens. _

_She wasn't in Area 11 more than a few hours before she quite literally crashed into your friend, Suzaku Kururugi. And it was the beginning of what would prove to be another series of difficult choices for the young woman. He fell in love with her. And she…she loved him as well._

_As her surrogate mother, I was pleased to see her take interest in a man that, obviously, you would and did approve of. And he…As you know, he has a good and genuinely noble heart. I could have been happy for them, and for a time I was – believing that things had gone as they ought to go. You'd both grown up. If you met, again, as was more or less inevitable, it would be with affectionate hearts. But no more than is proper between siblings. Half-siblings._

_I didn't know if I should wish for that meeting or not. As I said, I feared whether Euphemia would be able to forgive you for killing Clovis. But more than that, I feared that I was losing you…_

_-_

She stepped into the room and I felt Lelouch's heart beat out of turn. He had known she was there, of course, but…Well, I knew my son well enough, or at least I thought I did back then, that he hadn't planned to reveal himself to Euphemia, or see her at all. "Did you trade your life for the hostages?" He called out to the girl in a clear, loud voice that scarcely trembled with his surprise.

Euphemia leveled a glare at the man wearing the mask.

"You're the same as ever." Lelouch smiled, then, and I felt relief wash over him. "Although, I hear you've become the Vice Governor General. Congratulations."

She scowled. "What is there to be happy about?"

"Ah, but perhaps you're only unhappy because I killed your brother Clovis. Would you like to hear how he begged me for his life with the same mouth that ordered the death of so many Elevens?"

"Is that why you killed him?"

"No. Actually, I killed him because he was a child of the Emperor. Which reminds me…"

-

_And then you aimed your gun at her. I wish I could say it was the only time, or even the last time… How far had your heart already slipped away that you could threaten the very same girl you once loved?_

_But then I heard them. Your thoughts and feelings as you questioned the new part of you that was emerging. You didn't want to kill her. You couldn't let this growing emptiness you so aptly named "Zero" harm her._

_You could kill Clovis, you wanted to kill Clovis, Cornelia, Schneizel - anyone who stood in your way. You thirsted for the blood of your siblings like a vengeful beast. They were what went wrong. They were the ones responsible, was your judgment, pronounced with the limited observations of a grief-stricken and angry ten-year-old child. They were responsible in some way you didn't know, for killing me. And leaving Nunnally psychologically damaged._

_You wanted their deaths like you wanted nothing else…And this was the 'great' and 'noble' man my son had become!_

_I was furious with you that day. Congratulating yourself on killing your own brother, preening on television like some holier-than-thou champion. So much like the emperor you despised in your own father. I could have wished for an end to your little uprising right then, my son. I had begun to question whether you still had the heart to be a truly good and noble king, yet I didn't go so far as to lose my faith in you completely, Lelouch. _

_But from that day on, the day when your heart beat out of turn, when your soul cried that you could be given such a fate as to have to hurt her… when you realized you couldn't and wouldn't kill Euphemia li Britannia – your half-sister and the woman you had once asked my permission to take as your bride. I began to believe. Not in the control and influence you'd hold as King one day, Lelouch. No, my dearest son. _

_I believed in the power of the Queen._

* * *

Chapter 5 (excerpt)

_...it is men who are the historians of that world. The victors, fresh from the field of battle wander home to tell the tale of their victories. And they thank their swordmaker for forging their sword of the finest steel so that it never failed them in the heat of the fight, and they thank their page (and yes, I'm being metaphorical) for their care of the horse that served the soldier so well. They praise their captain for his bravery, their king for his leadership. But they never thank their wife and children for the prayers that kept him safe._

_No, the wife that stays at home, she's the one who is weak. But how weak can she be when she gives that same victorious knight the very reason he has to fight? To draw another breath, to live to see the end of the war…_

_…and so it is that women are rarely remembered for the sacrifices they make for the men they hold dear. _

_And so it was that two very different, but equally as strong and vital women were almost lost, and all but forgotten amidst the battle on Shikinejima island. Both of them desperate, both of them doing everything in their power to save the lives of the men they loved. _

_For you, my son, I saved them both._

_And for you, Lelouch…I did everything in my power to separate Euphemia and Suzaku._


End file.
